by Robert Ker Porter at his sole expense.
I felt interested in seeing the name of a
man who, like myself, had come from the
Caspian Gates to this distant country of the
West.

North of the city, I found only one other place
worth a visit. This is the Toma, or reservoir,
which supplies Carácas with water. It is
situated in a thickly-wooded ravine, and a very
narrow path among the bushes leads to it. It
is necessary to tread with caution here, as, on
account of the dense thickets, and the place
being so little frequented, snakes abound in
incredible numbers. I was assured that, on a
little rocky terrace where the shrubs will not
grow, sometimes forty or fifty rattlesnakes and
other serpents might be seen basking in the sun.
With such protectors a human guard might
seem unnecessary. There is, however, a
superintendent, and, on entering his cottage, I found
his wife, a native of the Canary Islands, working
with her daughter at making sandals. She said
they could make two dozen a day, and got six
and a half dollars, or about a pound sterling, a
dozen. This is only one instance of many I saw
of the enormously high rates at which labour is
paid in Venezuela.

Westward of the city I did not ride. In this
direction there is only the road to La Guaira,
along which I had come by coach. I took,
however, a walk to the Calvario, a hill on which the
stations at Calvary ought to be marked by
crosses, but I observed none. The hill, which
being some hundred feet high, commands a good
view over the city, is remarkable for a very
severe action fought there on the 23rd of June,
1821, between Colonel Pereira, the Spanish
commandant of Carácas, and General José Francisco
Bermudez, of the patriot army. Bermudez,
who had only fifteen hundred men, attacked
with great fury the Spanish forces, though far
outnumbering his column, and advantageously
posted on the high ground, and was so
completely defeated that he had great difficulty
in escaping to Rodea with two hundred
men.

To the south there is a fine road, made by an
European engineer, which leads to Los Teques,
a village about twenty-five miles from Carácas,
where there were gold mines once worked by
the Spaniards, and which, in fact, were the
glittering bait that lured them into the
province. The first station on this road, at about
six miles from the city, is the pleasant village
of Antemano, where Caraquénian beauties go to
bathe and ruralise during the heats of summer.
There is also a road more directly south, which
leads across the river La Guaira into the hills,
and so to the valley of the Tuy. There is a
beautiful estate in this direction, belonging to
Señor Espino, whose income from land may be
about twenty thousand dollars a year. With a
visit to his property I closed my survey of the
environs of Carácas, and came to the conclusion
that, were it not for earthquakes, epidemics,
insect plagues, triennial revolutions, and bell-ringing,
there would be few more desirable localities
for a residence.

MORE SCOTCH NOTES.

THE pretty little town of Banff, pleasantly
situated on the sea, six hundred and odd miles
north of London, and within sight, on a clear
day, of John o'Groat's, is as desirable a
residence for the autumnal holidays as is to be
found in all Scotland. The town and its
immediate vicinity afford all the delights which
the health and pleasure-seeker can desire. For
scenery, society, sea-breeze, sea-bathing, and
sport of every kind, it is a multum in parvo. I
have come to anchor here among shops, and
banks, and places of business; yet I am within
five minutes' walk of a park as large as the
Regent's in London, and infinitely more picturesque.
Every pleasure is within five minutes'
walk—rowing or sailing in the lovely bay, trout
and salmon fishing in the Deveron, pheasant,
hare, and rabbit shooting (by permission of the
Earl of Fife) in the woods and policies, bathing
in the creeks on the links, harvesting in the
fields, whose golden store almost encroaches
upon the streets, Alpine climbing on the sides of
Doon, with a view of fine countries from the top
—what more would you have to give you an
appetite for cock-a-leekie, and collops, and toddy,
and "wut?" If Banff, with its bay, its river,
and its surrounding scenery, were anywhere on
the south or east coasts of England, it would be
the gem of all watering-places, the paradise of
pleasure-seekers. I don't say this because I was
born within a few miles of it, and passed many
of the happiest days of my youth in the town
itself. No. I was insensible to its rare beauties
then. It was when I came back to it after many
years that the charms of the place struck me
with their full force. Going back over the
"bonny brig," I thought to myself, "Far ha' I
travelled and muckle ha' I seen, But a bonnier
little toon than this has never met my een."
One must be poetical and lyrical on coming ower
the bonny brig o' Banff. I defy even a Birmingham
scissors-grinder to be otherwise.

Yet, with all these advantages, Banff is little
frequented by strangers. The county people,
insensible to the beauty which lies within an easy
distance, go far afield in search of health and
pleasure. Thus Banff, like full many a
beautiful home flower, is born to blush unseen, and
waste its sweetness on its natives, who are
somewhat disposed to vote it a dull little hole.

Well, it is dull. In the principal street of the
town I never saw ten persons at a time. One
market-day there were eleven individuals visible
in the neighbourhood of the Planetanes, but one
of them was a horse and another a dog. If
it had been crowds of people I wished to see, I
should have stopped in London and taken daily
walks down Fleet-street. Yet, at a week's end,